23rd Doctor Adventures: Ghosts in the Machines
by Shutchings
Summary: A Doctor from the future faces an enemy from the past in a battle that'll shake everything the Doctor stands for...
1. Introduction

Introduction

Cherubs of -- the accursed A-Level examinations have separated me from you for such a long time I hope none of you have forgotten who I am, although I wouldnt blame you at all if you did. To compensate for my absence, and what with today (22nd May 2009) being an unusual reprieve from constant revisions and essays I will make it up to you with two new chapters of my League of Extraordinary Gentlemen story and also a new project that I have been working on for some time. That project just so happens to be the story you have opened and are reading now. Arent you lucky?

This story will hopefully become a series of stories following Doctors that never were and probably never will be, and feature are considerably darker and more macabre setting than the one darling Russel T Davies has set for us. This story is the last adventure of the supposed 23rd Doctor and his regeneration into the 24th.

It is also important to note that the 23rd Doctor is based on the physical appearance of Bill Nighy and his companion Angel on the actress Lenora Crichlow. Google image search them for verification but to be entirely honest if you havent seen them before you probably have more problems than Google can help you with.

Also, this introduction serves as a means of shameless advertising on my part. These alternate Doctors feature on a proboards website I have developed-- and I invite other Doctor Who writers or just writers who wish to have a shot at it to come and write for these characters. Please. We are so desperately short of people.

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Until then,

Sean


	2. Prologue

Prologue:

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How long Doctor? How long have you lived?

**The Brain of Morbius**

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I have dreamt only one dream for the last century. Every night it repeats itself in exactly the same way. The same images and sounds again and again. I do not understand why I have it or where it comes from. I can only imagine it is a memory buried deep, trying to assert itself. It certainly feels like a memory. The burnt orange sky, the ice capped mountains and the purple tinged rock face. It is late afternoon, the light begins to dwindle. I am young. A child. Walking outside in the knee high grass feels like heather. I am light as a feather, not a care in the world, my heart is not heavy, my soul is unburdened- there is just me and the glorious evening. I walk, time means nothing to me, a Time Lord to whom time means nothing if there is light there is time. I run my hand through the grass and walk so slowly. I am light headed, as though I am only half there. Somewhere in the distance I here music, a piper of some description. Its song is beautiful. I have not hear it for so long. So very, very long. A voice calls me by name. From the house across the plain. My home. There is a woman stood there, tall and graceful but her face is unclear by the distance. Every inch the Time Lady. My mother

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The Doctor woke. The TARDIS hummed around him. He glanced around the room. He rose out of bed and slipped on a shirt. The universe flooded back into his head


	3. Chapter 1: Alone in the Dark

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Chapter One: Alone in the Dark

To say that Angel was a light sleeper would be untrue. She had been known to sleep through break ins, fights, a shooting outside her house and if you were to ask her where she was when the planes hit the twin towers- she would answer on the couch taking a nap. She was that sort of post graduate. But having spent her teenage years with a restless Dalmatian pup at the end of the bed had tuned her in to things that required her immediate consciousness. This was one of those times. Her room in the TARDIS was larger than any she had every stayed in, and the darkness never failed to amaze her. Her four poster bed was made of the darkest mahogany and obscenely comfortable fabrics. It could never be said that the Doctor did not look after his companions. When she woke, the psychic field in her bedroom turned the lights a comfortable twilight. The Doctor was up and about in the TARDIS, in the artificial night. She knew he had midnight strolls occasionally- to the lavatory, to the parlour or to the console room if he felt he had left some vital piece of machinery on when he shouldnt have. But just lately it had become consistent, and he would disappear off into depths of the TARDIS for hours on end and never return. Night in the TARDIS was only called up every twenty four hours or so and lasted for a full twelve hours. Though it sounds farfetched- Angel found herself sleeping for the full twelve hours and feeling all the benefits of it. But how could she sleep when the Doctor was restless? She worried about him, more lately than she had in a long time. It was not as if she and the Doctor had any great secrets from one other. Theyd been together for too long to do that. Shed seen his world, how he lived and seen the secrets Time Lords had about themselves. The Doctor and the Companion in the TARDIS- just how it should be. But Angel was not one to be rescued all the time. She understood, though he would never admit it, that sometimes he needed rescuing- not from monsters or calamity but from himself. And a conversation in the dead of night could do all the more good to a Time Lord than any sonic screwdriver or reversing the polarity of the neutron flow. She picked up her dressing gown from the back of the chair, wrapped it around herself and stepped out of her room.

The corridors did not light up when she entered, the circular panels in the walls glowed a dim blue colour in the murk. She could hear footsteps far away down the passage. For a moment she feared it would be someone other than the Doctor, but the sound of him clearing his throat was all to familiar. He was heading towards the heart of the TARDIS. Feeling her way along the passage, her bare feet freezing on the marble floor, she gripped the bronze rail to keep her up. She came to a short flight of steps. This place was new to her- which frightened her. There was an image in the TARDIS that appeared sometimes- a spiral patterning the Doctor called the Seal of Rassilon- that marked parts of the TARDIS steeped in Time Lord business. Time Lord business that didnt apply to mere mortals like Angel here. The great oak doors (or at least, a very close approximation of oak) were open ever so slightly, and a warm light bored across the cold floor. Angel decided to take a chance- well, if the Doctor had meant to keep her out hed have done a better job closing the door wouldnt he? Someone as clever as him wouldnt make a silly mistake like that. Unless of course, his mind was wandering too much lately. She took the heavy brass handle in hand and pulled it aside, just wide enough to squeeze through. How the hell did he get them open?

So this was the cloister room? Shed never actually visited it before, and now having seen it, she couldnt understand why. It was like a Roman garden, stone pillars and benches and water fountains in the wall- even a warm Mediterranean breeze filled it. The climate clung to her and drove the last of the grogginess from her. The lush greenery took her aback; glorious ivy throttled every pillar and reached towards the ceiling. Delicate orchards bloomed into their full beauty and scented the air with their rich perfume. It was glorious in here. And there- sat on one of the stone benches, his shoulders arched, his palms together, was the Doctor- staring off across the cloister room. He was oblivious to his assistants presence in the inner sanctum of his glorious machine. Despite the beauty of this amazing room the Doctor was enveloped in an impenetrable melancholy- an overhanging sadness that pained Angel. Time Lords did not often show their emotions physically, but somehow anyone near them felt them as well. Angel walked over to him and sat down beside him, failing to so much as crack his concentration. His icy blue eyes were baring down on something across the room and his whole being dedicated itself to gazing at it.

Doctor? She ventured. Doctor? The Time Lords nostrils flared. He breathed deeply and sighed sharply. He was bare foot, an idea that had never even occurred to Angel. The Doctor wore the magnificent calf length boots and the thought of him not wearing them was absolutely surreal. He wore his wing collared shirt open to his chest, his braises up and across his thin shoulders. She noticed that on his chest, he wore his Taoist medallion- yin and yang. Poignancy incarnate and he wore it at all times. It was at this moment that Angel realised how poorly dressed she herself was- her legs were bare and she had only a t-shirt beneath the dressing gown but for some reason it never occurred to her around the Doctor. He never looked upon her with lust, there was no question about it- there was not even an idea of that being a possibility between them. Their relationship went above and beyond that. The Doctor had been different when she first met him, when her world was turned upside down and made better by this three fold man in his travelling machine. The day her understanding of the world was blown out of proportion. And now the Doctor was thin and elderly, oiled back, thinning white hair and the most amazing pointed features. But it was his eyes that amazed his; icy blue and without malice. The relationship between the Doctor and his companion could, at times, be strained but they enjoyed each others company and needed each other for stability. One could not be happy without the other being so as well. Nice chamber. Ive never been this far down into the TARDIS before. Peaceful. She said, desperately trying to strike up a conversation.

The cloister room is the only place I can really think he said quietly. So much in my mind. Incoherent mumblings, flashes of images, sounds. Half hearing a conversation. I cant make sense of my head. Everythings chaos in here he pressed a bony forefinger to his temple. His mind was ticking slowly, grinding quietly around the inside of his skull. He turned to Angel and for a moment, his face was a picture of anguish and frightened confusion. Then he relaxed, and his features lifted into a grim smile. Its awfully late. You should really be sleeping

I couldnt. I had to make sure you were alright

The Doctor laughed, tickled by the idea.

Im two thousand years old Angel, Im more than capable of looking after myself after I have a bad dream he chuckled.

Two thousand years old and you still get me to make your eggs in the morning.

I get indigestion otherwise, you make them just the right way he started. He turned to her, smiling. She smiled softly in return. Then the melancholy came over him again. His eyes burnt deep into Angels mind, locking their gazes together. He didnt mean to do it, it just happened sometimes and he got embarrassed if Angel struggled against it. In his eyes there was pure sorrow. His soul was weeping.

Is that why you came in here? She said. You had a nightmare?

The Doctor reached forward and curled her dark hair between his thumb and middle finger.

Im going to miss you Angel he said so quietly and so matter-of-factly that Angel wasnt quite sure he had said it.

Im no going anywhere Doctor.

You are my child, he said. You dont know it, you dont mean it but you are going. Youll leave me someday. Was this the source of his misery? Angel felt his pain- she couldnt bare the idea that the Doctor would leave her- but it never occurred to her that it might be mutual. She held his hand.

As long as I have a say in it she said. I will never leave you. I love you old man. She smirked. He smirked in return. He couldnt cope with saying it in return. Every time someone crossed the threshold of the TARDIS, every time he opened up his heart to somebody he knew he would feel the crushing pain again. Everything left him. Everything crumbled to dust and everything died. The only constant was that he would be hurt again. And sat here in the cloister room with his companion in the dead of night made him wonder and seriously question whether or not the brief moments of happiness and companionship was worth the heartache of loosing them. He couldnt blame them, they were human, theyre lives were so short that if they did fulfil their promises and stay with him forever he would have to watch them whither and die. Was it worth it? Would it be so bad if he just stopped? If he shut up the doors of the TARDIS and left he universe behind?

If were to die tomorrow he said. If I failed to regenerate and met my maker I wonder would anybody notice? A stab of grief took Angel by force.

Doctor-- she started, he cut over her.

Angel. Im serious. If I withdrew tomorrow who would mourn me? Who would miss me? Who would stand by my graveside? He said. Angel was hurt. Deeply, truly hurt but she knew how people acted when they were in the depths of depression. They expressed themselves as a matter-of-fact. She clutched his hand even tighter.

I would. She said firmly. He looked at her, with those bewitching blue eyes.

I know you would. But for how long? How long until something young and strong takes your eye and you start your life again? I dont blame you. I want you to to be happy

I am happy

But this isnt forever Angel. Nothings for ever. Everything falls apart, it crumbles and it dies and turns to ashes. Except of course for me. The constant wanderer. I wonder if those who have left me before speak about me

Of course they do

How do you know?

This wasnt cynical, this was an honest question. He wanted them to so badly, so that maybe the tearing loneliness was tolerable. But no, Angels gaze dropped. She couldnt console him. The Doctor sighed quietly and let his mind wander. Angel couldnt see it, but he had carved the names of his companions into the rock of the pillars around the room. He came here to remember- and at the same time- to forget.

You should go to bed Angel, get some rest He wanted to be on his own now. The company was killing him. Angel looked up.

No, she said. Ill stay here. For now. Ill stay. She smiled and he returned it. Laying her head on the Doctors shoulder- she didnt see the tear trickle down his face or know how much his heart was breaking right now


	4. Chapter 2: Unscheduled Stop

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Chapter Two: Unscheduled Stop

A lifetime away from the orbiting Tardis, night had fallen across the Ranx. A planet wide prairie of scorched grassland and gasping oceans at either pole. By the 50th Century, Ranx had evolved a unique fauna of veracious giant birds and giant herding tortoise like creatures--- and now a fledgling human colony. The humans had arrived a hundred years before with one intention profit. The main driving force behind any human expansionist policy was of course to find a territory steeped in a natural resource and exhaust it in as little time as policy then move on from the husk to the next ripe peach of a landmass. Or in these times of interstellar travel-- star system. It was this mentality on which the great and bountiful human empires had been forged, ballooning out from planet earth across four galaxies, picking up civilisations and species along the way and sending the wealth back along the line to the foggy blue gem in the solar system. Ranx was the newest edition to the earth collective and a frontier civilisation had established itself in little under a century to mine the planet hollow. The greatest achievement of these great cosmic cowboys was the pinnacle of all infrastructure in the empire--- a railway that ran around the planets equator, a tribute to robotic construction teams. The planet was tamed in under a decade. And now, from the space port riding through the blazing blue night was the midnight train of this hemisphere packed to bursting with pioneers recruited from over packed worlds who had been caught up in the ministry of colonisations propaganda campaign to go off and forge a new society and wreak the rewards from the untouched soil. These hopefuls were a blend of the species under earth occupation though primarily human (for all their evolutionary faults, human beings were the best species in the universe for using a pick axe) and in his own private car the new governor of the mining town Ambition.

A great, fat southern states dandy with an immaculately white suit by the name of Chester Chilvester lay back in his seat and sipped from the cocktail that had been stored away for his honours presence onboard the train. It was odd how regional and national inflections had survived this far out into space; and as such the Governor Chester Chilvester who had never been on earth in his sixty years of life let alone the southern states of America was accompanied by his quasi-reptilian and apparently Glaswegian manservant Jivvers. Jivvers was tall, slender and not as human as the purer and aristocratic group of earth emigrants that Chilvester was a part of would have normally socialised with. In these mature days of human expansion into space the purity of the homo-sapien gene pool was consider a social calling card. As such those such as Jivvers who suffered from no mainstream prejudice could find no better job among the blue bloods (an ironic enough terminology) than as a servant-- although the money was good he was not allowed the luxury of a first name.

The train thundered along its reinforced track, its powerful steam whistle sending a flock of the huge carnivorous birds running and shrieking as the black iron body powered its way along the tracks. It would reach Ambition by tomorrow afternoon. Chilvester was the grandson of Walter Chilvester, an old earth aristocrat who had been one of the founders of the Ranx colony project. Now, a hundred years later Chester was carrying on the work and had even designed and named one of the new mining towns. His vision was sturdy to say the least, even if the name lacked imagination. However, the town was running behind schedule and Chilvester didnt care for the sheriff at all-- so he had left his cushy home on Tolios Alpha and his harem of young men to come and bring Ambition into line. In the hundred years they had been out here the colonists had become excitable. The miners often talked about seeing ghosts down in the pits, and at night people claimed to see pale giants roaming in flocks across the prairie. Superstitious labourers. What they needed was fresh blood. So the fat man had loaded a shuttle with strong young men and women and brought them to his own little nest egg. These were the people who were going to dig up his retirement fund. He was a careful investor.

He shifted his flabby rump into a more comfortable nook of his chair and read the newspaper. It was four days out of date and was the last thing he had sent Jivvers to retrieve before they had set off to the Ranx but it was something to do before tiredness and the alcohol in his flabby blood sent him into a deep and rasping sleep. Speaking of

Jivvers old boy, he said in the sort of southern drawl that brought to mind rocking chairs on porches and whiskey distilleries on hot nights. He waved the empty cocktail glass at the young green tinted man. Be a sport will you and fill up this glass for me theres a good boy He was charmingly patronising. Jivvers smiled a smile that had certain imminent mutinous qualities about it. He took the glass in a delicately clawed hand.

As you wish governor, the Glaswegian said. Shaken or stirred sir?

Surprise me he grimaced, although it may have been a smile. His doughy jowls and dense white moustache and mutton chops made facial expressions difficult to interpret. Jivvers dutifully refilled the glass and half heartedly shook it. Chilvester leant back and looked out of the window at the blurring scorching plains of the Ranx. Staring into his own reflection he rubbed his knuckles on his second and third chin. I say Jivvers, he said. What do you make of all this ghost business?

Jivvers turned from the cocktail bar and gave the glass to his employer. Ghosts sir? I wasnt aware there were any The small gold clock started to chime-- 1 oclock in the morning.

Well of course there are no ghosts boy, he snapped as though his patience had been slowly whittled away. But these confounded miners are babbling on about them. Cant have superstition getting into them. Ive got a hell of an investment riding on these people Jivvers, I aint letting no ghosts real or not affecting it. He turned, surprised to see Jivvers stood there with two large pink pills in his open palm. What the hell is this?

Its one oclock sir, said Jivvers. Time for your medication.

Chilvester grunted and fit both of the pills into the dank pit of his face, slurping them back with his cocktail. Jivvers didnt bother to tell him that taking pills with alcohol wasn't a good idea, even if these pills were the only thing stopping the fat in his blood stream turning completely solid. Chilvester didnt like being told what to do. He came from a world where how much money you had decided how right you were in situations.

Its the principle of the thing, always said it always it will, he wiped his fat lips with a pasty hand. Discipline is what these peasants need. Spare the rod spoil the the er

Child sir.

Chilvester turned slowly and glared at his manservant with utter contempt.

Did I ask for your o-pinion Jivvers? He grumbled.

No sir, sorry sir.

Chilvester grumbled some racial insult under what little breath he had and glared out of the window. To him it wasnt a sun baked prairie-- the whole planet was a big silver dollar and he had just put it into his pocket. He smirked greedily and drained the last of the cocktail from the glass. From outside there rose a terrible screeching, the whole train buckled and lurched and in a moment the speeding machine had been brought to a complete halt. Sparks flew up past the window as burning wheels gripped against cold steel track. Chilvester, unfortunately for him, was still travelling when the train unexpectedly stopped and now lay on his back about five feet from his chair. Jivvers, unfortunately for him, had to lift Chilvester off of the floor.

Get off of me! The fat man barked, waving his servant away and struggling to his overwhelmed legs. What in the name of hell is going on here?! He looked around, his face turning purple with rage, desperately looking for someone to blame. He turned on Jivvers very, very quickly. Well dont just stand there you stupid half-breed! Get off this fucking train and see whats happening! The anger in Jivvers right now was unsurpassed even by his foaming employer. He could have killed him there and then and never have regretted it. But he had debts that desperately needed to be paid off-- and the old man would die anyway if he wasnt around. He needed his money. So, nodding dutifully, he opened the door and hopped out of the train and onto the prairie.

The warm night air shocked Jivvers system as he dropped to the arid grassland, batting the dust from his knees. The train was letting off steam, the engineers had leapt out of their cab and tried to understand what had happened to the train. The brakes had closed and fused themselves to the wheels. Liquid iron had ran across the wheels and the track. The locomotive had been melted to the track. As they stood there, the boiler inside the cab exploded-- and a mass of superheated steam, water, coal dust and blistered metal spat out onto the prairie. With nowhere the go the steam pressure ripped the inside of the locomotive apart. The doors of the carriages popped open, and the colonists hopped out to see what had happened.

In the middle of the night, a cluster of nearly two hundred human colonists stood around, tired and travel worn and becoming increasingly wary about their position. They were utterly exposed. And though it sound ridiculous to say, there was a feeling in all of those gathered that there was something infinitely more sinister than a horrendous malfunction. There was... an aura about the scene. Something in the eerie quiet of the prairie, the smell of burnt tin in the air, and the formal nature of the train's damage. There was something altogether routine about it. Machine malfunctions were often vicious, more violent than this. It was uniform, rehearsed. Planned. The thought sent a shiver down Jivvers and the colonists shared his worry. There was quiet amongst them.

It all happened so quickly. The ground jalted as a lift jalts onto the ground floor. The air was filled with a sweet smelling orange powder and standing there were the ghosts. The colonists screamed and scattered. Jivvers stood horrified, falling backwards against the train and gawping. There was nothing else that could be done. There was nothing else to say about them. Ghosts. Giant, pale ghosts, round hollow eyes, porcelain limbs and faces blank of any expression or individual features. In a matter of seconds the group was surrounded by two dozen of the baron fiends. Light sprang up from nowhere illuminating them all. The ghosts advanced, chasing the colonists back towards the train. No, not chasing-- herding. It had been a trap. Jivvers didn't know how but someway the ghosts had halted the train. They're limbs outreached, they were little more that silhouettes of the human form. Eight feet high, all identical, pure white. Jivvers had never been so scared. He couldn't think. He couldn't move. He sat slumped against the melted wheel of the locomotive and quaked.

He shrieked when it caught him. Ice cold, vice like hands gripped his shoulders, wrenching the joint out of socket as he tried in vain to jerk away. Strength impossible for a real creature. They were other worldly. The creature hoisted him up and dragged him kicking and shrieking into the tight ring of screaming colonists. Chilvester was there, a handsome blow on his skull and a dazed look on his fat face. He was babbling.  
_So much for superstition you fat fuck._  
Jivvers' head span, he had never known terror before. They had set a trap. Dear god in heaven they had set a trap. Claustrophobia strangled his heart, he couldn't breath. It was merciless. It was so quick. It was inhuman. From this close proximity the ghosts, if they were that, seemed so much more solid. As the colonists were packed tighter and tighter together by the ring of advancing white giants--- the creatures looked almost as if they were made of metal, but no metal could act so alive. And then one of the creatures spoke. A deep, reverborating voice that came from every part of the creatures body. When it spoke, some passed out, Jivvers half imagined he heard one man go insane with terror:

_"You belong to us. You will be like us..."_


	5. Chapter 3: Wander Lust

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Chapter Three: Wander Lust

Being somewhere architecturally between a cathedral and the Nautilus, the TARDIS console room was bathed in a dim blue glow from the round ports in the walls and the bright white floodlights up above, pooling the console itself in a pocket of brilliant brightness. All varnished wood and polished brass fittings, flashing buttons and switches, intricate levers and cranks all denoted in the bizarre Gallifreyan script-- the great column of the time rotor reaching high into the ceiling, glowing with incandescent orange and green gas. The Doctor had left his overcoat hanging on the rather out-of-place coat stand and stood scrutinizing the monitor screen set in the console. With one hand poised over a crooked lever, he guided to TARDIS effortlessly across the glorious devastation of the universe. His hard, cold eyes bore into the controls, his magnificent machine humming and chirruping with every button he pressed. He cut an enigmatic demeanour in the light, almost forbidding no hint of the previous nights anxieties. This was the Doctor that Angel knew the universe cowered from, from who whole armies turned and fled. The old man in the time machine. She didnt buy it for a moment.

Angel lay stretched out on a fainting couch the Doctor had, for reasons he never fully explained, rather casually eating from a bowl of purple grapes and watching him at work. It was almost as though the night before hadnt even happened, he had melted so seamlessly back to his same old self-- to that hard exterior that diamond couldnt cut. No one was left who knew the Doctor nearly as well as Angel, and what she knew was comparatively little. As she lay there eating he grapes, she remembered how he had always kept a bowl of them by the couch because she liked them. He looked after her as his own, as he looked after everyone he came across. Her thoughts of the Doctor were laden with nothing but the utmost respect, admiration, he had saved her so many times before and all he asked for in return was her company. Why, then, did she feel so powerless at being unable to help him? She knew his hearts were breaking but couldnt comfort him, he wouldnt accept comfort- it wasnt in his nature. He must be impassive, peripheral, within and without, and she as his companion should stand and gawp with no concern for the old man who showed her these wonders. No. Thats not how it works Doctor. She would care, and with all her ability she would save him-- it was the least she could do. She put the bowl down and swung her legs over the side of the couch, pulling herself up.

No, The Doctor said, moving around the console.

What? Angel was startled.

Theres nothing you can do to help. He looked up and smiled reassuringly. Angel stood up defiantly and balanced on the edge of the console, dangling her legs as she watched the Doctor work.

Its freaky the way you do that

Call it intuition. He only looked up at her on the words he put the most emphasis on, usually the last one, as though they required extraordinary attention. Anywhere you have in mind? He cooed. His manner invited a rare opportunism that Angel seldom saw in the Time Lord, his nature was almost apologetic for the night before. Ordinarily their travels were at best bohemian, at worst random. We could try the opening night of The Importance of Being Ernest? He glanced at her, eyes wide and bright, lips tight. Oscar does owe me a favour. There is, if my instruments are anything to go by, a migration of pseudo-mammoths on the ice planet Pelago. Considered the epitome of the rugged beauty of the natural world inspired the human poet Wystan Morrissey to write he stopped and stared at Angel. She was just looking at him, smiling weakly. He heaved a sigh, stretched himself up, folded his arms and looked at her. Whats wrong?

Are you alright Doctor? She asked weakly. He winced, and cast his gaze back to the console.

Im always alright he muttered.

No youre not, I know youre not she hesitated a step closer to him, and took it. Im worried about you Doctor she cut him off before he could argue, which undoubtedly he was about to. I know theres nothing I can say to reassure but I do care what your feeling Doctor, I wont stand for you going all moody on me. It was like a three year old telling their father off. The Doctor stood for a moment, the TARDIS humming all around them. For just a second he half fancied he was looking at his own daughter all over again. So long ago now. Her sincerity shone through her, her seriousness creasing her beautiful face. The Doctor stood up straight and opened his arms, folding them around her and they stood for a moment in the time-light.

Thank you Angel, he said softly.

After a time, a series of lights lit up in sequence across the console, and a red panel began to pulsate. The TARDIS shuddered, and Angel staggered from the Doctors embrace. He wasnt there to help her back up, instead, he was enthralled by the TARDIS independent actions. The time rotor was inactive, the orange and green gasses swirling in their own space. The Doctor busied himself, flicking switches, turning handles, forcefully beating the scanner screen with his palm to make it work properly. Red alien letters flashed on the screen. Even Angel knew it was an alert.

What is it? She said, leaping up to the console. Whats happened?

The Doctors face was a picture of intense thought and solemnity, the TARDIS light picking out every line and wrinkle.

Premature materialisation he said. The TARDIS has landed herself. His stomach heaved and a lump developed in his throat. The TARDIS limited consciousness sometimes rendered it capable of independent thought and decision- especially when there was something running through its temporal databanks caught its attention. The Doctor took a step back and pressed his forefinger to his lip. Everything was normal, or at least as normal as things got with the Doctor. No wild catastrophe or call to man the battle stations. But that didnt stop the Doctor turning a paler shade of white. The TARDIS had intervened in his life, he had been summoned to an established event--- something that he, or Angel, or both of them were a vital part of. He cleared his throat, shook himself free of the wariness and, glancing at the console one more time, plucked his coat from the stand. Coming?

Following suit, Angel snatched her own denim jacket from the Doctors proffering grasp.

What do you think? She asked, waving her hands around her outfit.

Well you wont freeze he said sternly, flicking the release switch. The dark doors hissed, swelled and slid apart--- the dull wooden police box doors waiting for them on the other side. The Doctor led the way out of the TARDIS into the brilliant, dazzling breaking dawn. Angel trundled out in his wake, bringing the doors to a close behind her. She let out a sharp gasp and threw her arm up across her eyes. The sun was blistering, the air dry and dusty. Blurred by the glaring sun, she heard the Doctor lock the TARDIS doors.

You werent kidding-- its got to be about eighty Celsius out here she felt something cold and plastic touch her hand- with a sigh putting on the sunglasses the Doctor offered her. The prairie stretched for as far as they could see, not a sign of life or water. One vast, sun baked plane that just rolled on and on forever, not a hint of it giving out. But the air was fresh enough even if the sand caught up in their throat. Alright, Ill coin a clich where are we Doctor? The Doctor turned from the police box, gaunt and blue against the brilliant open sky-- the only upright thing on the whole prairie. Is this the wild west? Have we come to play cowboys and Indians? I didnt bring my lasso. The Doctor frowned, turned his head slowly and smiled at her. The smile softened his terminally serious presence.

Its the frontier certainly, he said putting on his own dark glasses. But youre unlikely to see the entire Sioux nation coming over the horizon. Well not on horseback anyway. Its the mid fiftieth century, and we are on the colony world Ranx They started to walk across the taut low-lying grass, leaving their lifeboat all alone with only its shadow for company. Angel had never as long as she had known the Doctor been one to constantly ask questions and need to be guided. She was no damsel in distress. She wasnt a little girl who needed the Doctor to show her which way to the sweet shop. But she was no smart-arse either, and dutifully listened when he had something to say more often than not it would be for her own good. The whole planet is just prairie, grassland, savannah and desert the closer you get to the equator-- the name Ranx actually means parched . The two oceans are melted icecaps-- and all that moisture from either end of the planet stop the planet from drying out. He had a glow about him when he was lecturing, but the silence came across him almost immediately afterwards. He never made eye contact, instead preaching to the prairie flowers.

So why has it been colonised then if its so inhospitable? She rolled her eyes. She was asking questions.

Same reason humans colonise anywhere, he sniffed in. Money.

Dont flatter us will you Doctor She said. The Doctor didnt pay attention.

Every human settlement here is a mining town, whole planet worth of minerals to harvest.

Mine what though? The Doctor stopped and looked at her.

You do ask a lot of questions. They carried on across the plane.

You dont know do you

I never did find out, no.

Can I ask one more question?

What?

Arent you warm in that coat?

The Doctor looked at his coat. It hadnt even occurred to him.

Now that you mention it I suppose I am. He took the dense woollen over garment off and fumbled with his free hand inside the breast pocket, removing a dark pair of folded binoculars no more than a few centimetres thick. They popped open with a charming little chirrup and he peered through them. The digitalised imagery broke the horizon down onto a computerised green grid and homed the image automatically onto, well, anything that wasnt just sand and grass and ditches. Aha a settlement about two miles in that direction He settled off into his own little mumblings of calculation, working out how long it would take them to get there before sun down, whether there was any other means of getting there Angel had stopped listening. She wandered a few feet away from the Doctor, kicking the sand. So this was the future. It never failed to amaze her-- how real it was, walking on a ground so far from home, to breath air that wasnt hers, and it never failed to excite her how normal it was. The ground felt the same, the sun still glared in the same way. But it thrilled her so much. The moment shed taken off with the Doctor, the moment that wander lust had got under her skin--- it all changed. It was taken in her stride. And so here she was--- in an alien desert thousands of years after her own time bored.

It made her smile.

That sun really was becoming a pain though. She couldnt remember if hers was any brighter though.

This planet, Ranx, was just as the Doctor said. One big prairie or a savannah. Hed explained that the number of planets with just one topographical feature that were colonised was due to the fact that they seldom created life forms that developed much of a civilisation. Score one for the old man, there was no sign of civilisation here. Not even a sign of life. Except of course for that shape wobbling across the horizon. A dense brown shape zigzagging its way across the dry grass. Angel raised her hand to block out the glare and squinted behind her sunglasses as the shape raced towards them. It was an animal. A very large and very fast animal.

She backed away, it was moving at incredible speed.

Er she stammered. Doctor? He turned around and didnt need to be shown. He stepped forward and moved Angel aside with his arm. What was the point in running? Itd only come after them. And as the ground began to vibrate under its weight it became more obvious what it was, even if it seemed ridiculous just to suggest. It was a Gecko. A Leopard Gecko as big and as mean as a bull. Its hips jogged from side to side as it scuttled like a deranged horse across the sand. It galloped to a stop and lowered its body, opening its enormous jaws and hissing, a hiss that came from deep inside and caked the Doctor and Angel in warm, stale breath. Its soft pink mouth was lined with a thousand razor sharp teeth, stringy saliva dripping from them. The eyes blinked in the son, its huge three toed feet pounded the ground and its tail hooked around stopping either of them escaping. Those huge reptilian eyes

They were hungry.


	6. Chapter 4: Lizards

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Chapter Four: Lizards

What was so unnerving about this creature was not its aggressiveness but how like an earth Gecko it was. All the dimensions, the colouring, the soft pebbled skin was just as a Leopard Gecko-- just on a considerably larger scale. It seemed to be an unwritten rule of travelling with the Doctor, that being an animal lover was all very well and good until you met a version large enough to eat you. The Gecko stamped its clawed feet and swung its dense tail around. The bulk in this creature messed with Angels perception. One of her friends from college had kept Leopard Geckos in a tank in their bedroom-- affectionately called Wystan and Hugh after her favourite poet. If she could have seen the size of this thing. It opened its mouth again, snapping its jaws shut and hissing.

Now lets all just calm down shall we The Doctor said in his calm patriarchal manner. His arms were raised, barring Angel as though she may charge at the reptile. He hesitated, reaching forward to place a palm upon the Geckos lower jaw- but a quick sharp snap sent the hand back to its position. No need to panic Angel

Im not panicking, she said indignantly.

Good he replied absently. He met the gaze of the hissing reptile that began to circle them slowly, the Doctor and Angel shuffling aside as the giant Gecko turned and herded them with its tail. All the time it thundered and hissed and thumped its tail, the Gecko kept its eyes locked with that of the old man. Bestial brown with impossible blue. Locked in each others glares, their presence fused together. Without any formal indication, beast and Time Lord faced each other down in a battle for supremacy. The Doctors face hardened, his dark glasses gripping the end of his nose hitting the giant Gecko with his full stare. Its alright he said, but not to Angel even though she was about to answer. She realised as soon as she turned to face the Doctor. He was talking to the reptile. What she had taken to be aggressiveness on the part of the Doctor turned out to be assertiveness, and what she thought to have been fear in the Gecko seemed more like respect. Its hiss became a submissive chirrup, it stamped its feet and lowered its giant head. The Doctor stepped forward, arms stretched to his side and placed his hand softly on the reptiles head. He never broke his gaze from it. Thank you for not panicking he said. Angel was startled when this actually was directed at her.

Eh? Oh- not a problem Doctor is that really what I think it is? She ventured.

What do you think it really is?

A Gecko.

The Doctor nodded slowly, still deep in concentration.

It is. Eublepharis macularius. Its a Leopard Gecko. Exactly the same as on your planet in every respect.

Every respect Doctor?

He turned to her and blinked; I didnt think I had to state the obvious. The Gecko clicked and chirruped and took the Doctors attention away.

I cant imagine what it must eat if its gotten that big. She suddenly felt quite sick. Oh god, it doesnt think were food does it?

No, the Doctor said calmly. It must have been sleeping near by and we woke it with the TARDIS.

Well thats a relief, what does it eat then?

Keep an eye out for crickets the size of Rottwielers this was said with such cold calmness that Angel had to second guess his sincerity.

Youre not serious she said through a smile. The Doctor looked at her and smiled.

No, of course Im not. He turned back to the Gecko that he was apparently making fast friends with. Angel was about to say something like _oh good _before the Doctor cut across with they wouldnt be bigger than youre average Labrador. Angel felt skittish all of a sudden, and though there was nothing that could hide anything as big as a Labrador, she still came over all squeamish when every slight rustle sounded uncannily like giant insect feelers rubbing together-- even if it was just the leg of her jeans rubbing against the other. She assumed the Doctor was having her on, but she didnt relish the idea of keeping such close proximity with the giant Gecko and took a few steps away. How had he done that? Subdued this aggressive reptile with just a stare? She sometimes forgot he wasnt human. But that effect was beyond even natural abilities. She looked out onto the horizon where the Doctor had said there was a settlement, and thought she could pick out rooftops if she narrowed her eyes enough but from behind her came gunfire and whooping and as she spun around she saw them. Cowboys. Four stout cowboys rugged as anything but riding on the backs of giant bipedal birds. Great prehistoric looking things, legs like tree trunks with a blend of brilliant black and chocolate brown plumage ---- beaks that could bite through steel. The birds themselves were squawking, but the cowboys were firing their pistols and hollering to the high noon sun.

Sorry to interrupt your down time Doctor, she said, hurrying back to him. But er here come the cavalry. The Doctor looked around and stood up slowly, stood for a moment in disbelief at what he was seeing. They had lassos now and were closing in. He snapped out of his bewilderment and his face turned sour.

Stop you idiots! He called at them, waving his arms in the air. Stop! Id only just calmed her!

Angels gaze snapped around. The gecko was freaked out, falling out of what ever spell the Doctor had cast on it and resuming the violent bestial nature of a frightened monster. It snapped at the birds as they circled it, hissing like a snake. The birds and their riders had disregarded the Doctor and Angel as they zoomed past, cordoning off the gecko. The Doctor was bristling with anger and frustration. He didnt like people not doing as they were told. The gecko became increasingly angry at being fenced in by a quartet of buzzards and their sun baked riders, and with one deft swipe of its tail took the legs from under one of the birds-- sending its rider, a flabby drink-of-water to the hard ground with a thud and a dazed expression. The bird, seeking to save its own skin, squawked, ruffled its feathers and ran about ten yards away-- leaving its rider helpless and plump on the floor. The other birds reared up and refused to respond to their riders, leaving the gecko free to home in on this succulent, sun roasted meal. Angel ran forward before the Doctor had a chance to, and pressing her fingers into her mouth whistled loudly. The great yellow, spotted head jerked round.

Come on you great slimy bugger! She called. Come and get something with a little fight in them!

It turned and hissed, and a little voice in Angels head called her a very nasty name. The gecko flinched, twitched, and withdrew its head like a dog when scolded by its master. The Doctor had stepped coolly and calmly into view and worked his magic on it once again.

Ive told you once he muttered to it. Angel thought that those words bypassed the animals ears and went straight into its head. How the hell did he do that? The gecko shook its great body and nestled down onto the ground. The flabby rider stood up, brushed himself off and rocked over to the Doctor. The man was that interesting sort of fat that made him rectangular. His neck was the same width as his massive, though probably empty, head and was a sort of perspiring crimson in colour. A dense brown moustache flecked with silver hairs covered that portion of his face, coating enough of his upper lip so it bounced when he spoke. Along with the hat, the neckerchief and the spurs on his tarnished boots he looked like the archetypal cowpoke. He was also furious at being knocked off of his steed, and bewildered at the Doctors actions. Being a man of limited intelligence, he was of the opinion that anyone displaying higher intellectual power was a threat to his personal manhood.

How in Gods name did you do that? He demanded. The Doctor didnt laugh, even though the man sounded _exactly_ like Slim Pickens. He took off his dark glasses and folded them.

I have a certain amount of influence over creatures with limited intelligence the Doctor said calmly.

Thats the most ridiculous thing I ever did hear! the man blustered.

Here, hold these for me The Doctor handed absently handed him the dark glasses.

Yeah, fine. He grudgingly grumbled. The Doctor walked away, back to Angel and took his coat from her hands before the man realised exactly what had just happened. He was livid. Now just you wait a minute! Who in the hell are you?! One of the birds padded quietly up behind the little raging ball of testosterone and its rider dismounted. He was taller, younger and as much a western cliché as the man he was about to address. He had rugged good looks, a five oclock shadow and a surprisingly perfect smile for such an out-of-the-way colony world such as this. He was also in considerably better shape.

Theyre the sort of questions I oughta be askin, he said, pressing both thumbs into his belt. Dont you think Terwilliger? Terwilliger, which was apparently the name of the almost-gecko-snack grumbled and pulsed his shoulders.

Yes sir, sheriff- he muttered from behind the moustache. You get some sense out of them. Ill go and get my bird he fixed the Doctor with a contemptuous look and waddled off to take his frustrations out on his bird. The sheriff (and he had a big gold star with the word sheriff written on it in 51st century English) headed over to the Doctor and Angel who stood so distinctly in this baron world. They looked as though they had popped up out of nowhere. The sheriff didnt know that that was actually the case.

Youll have to excuse my deputy, he started, pushing the brim of his hat up with the same thumb he had kept behind his belt. The mans got a short temper and an itchy trigger finger if you get my meaning he smiled charmingly.

Oh I think we understand, the Doctor said, slowly turning to look at Angel. The word that leapt immediately into Angels head was _impotent_.

Names Dante-- the sheriff continued. Sheriff of Ambition. And who are you two? No provisions, not a mark on you-- you aint exactly dressed for travelling out here.

Appearances can be deceptive I assure you sheriff, he said smiling. Im the Doctor, this is Angel- my companion and therapist Dante looked at Angel, that look that frontier men gave women who hadnt yet hardened in the bad lands, a look that promised anything between a romantic supper and an evening where Angel could count his ceiling tiles. It couldnt be helped, Angel had this effect on men sometimes-- especially those who had been outside of civilisation for such a long time. She didnt mind, and with someone who looked like Dante, she would actively encourage it.

A physician, we already have one of those in Ambition friend-- Im afraid youd find yourself out of work pretty quickly

Ambition? Angel asked. Thats what a town? A settlement? Dante looked from one to the other truly baffled.

You two genuinely dont know where you are do you?

I know were on the Ranx, Angel ventured. Thats -- sort of it really. She half laughed.

Well I cant rightly leave you two here alone can I? Dante said, beaming like a teenager. Cmon, theres bound to a place for you to stay in town. You two follow along with us. Saddle up boys! Dante clambered back onto his bird. The two time travellers were stunned for a time at all that had happened so far, and turned at last to one another in the hope that one would have an explanation for the other. Their eyes widened, their shoulders shrugged. And the Doctor is all his dry drollness simply said:

Yeehaw.

-----------

The Doctor and Angel walked along side the slowly herding birds as they escorted the lumbering gecko back to the mining town Ambition. They learnt from one of the cowboys, a young farmhand called Farnsworth, that the giant geckos were herded like cattle on the Ranx-- being used as beasts of burden, their eggs being a vital source of protein and their shed skin was like a fine leather. This one, the breeding bull (for which the Doctor felt quite embarrassed for identifying it as a female) had got out of his pen and gone mooching around the prairie for about five days. If the Doctor hadnt have calmed it down they never would have caught it. Before long, they had entered Ambition via a railroad crossing-- whereupon the Doctor explained the great equatorial railway to his less than enthralled companion. Beneath the faded wooden sign that read Welcome to Ambition was a sort of metal plinth that whirred and glowed when the Doctor and Angel approached it. Bright lights flashed through the spectrum, and a flickering, hazy hologram of a fat man in a white suit appeared on it. The drawling accent and the white mutton-chops were distinctive of the Chilvester family, and this must have been the latest doughy arse on the throne-- the remarkably bigoted Chester. His over-enthusiastic greeting was over sweetened with tourist nonsense, as though Ambition had become and amusement park rather the gritty, grimy labour town it was. Everyone here worked come rain or shine--- and there was another Chilvester growing fat off of the profit. Angel could see the distaste in the Doctors face as the hologram spoke:

_Well helloooo there. Welcome to Ambition the town where youre gonna dig up your own little fortune. High quality, state of the art mining equipment makes it hardly seem like work at all, and the ministry of colonisation has spared no expense in making sure you will kept in the peak of health in your patriotic duty _

No doubt the presentation went on for at least a few more reels, but the Doctors cunning intervention with the sonic screwdriver spared them that, and Chilvester broke down into atoms of light before slipping back into the mainframe. The hologram must have had some sort of genetic catalogue inside that reacted to anyone not native to Ambition. Advertising. The great human art. Dante appeared behind them.

Arriving today to take the seat of governor he said, his face bright but his tone grave.

Who? Asked Angel. The fat man in the computer?

Chester Chilvester The Doctor corrected her. He wont be too happy to see me

Im yet to meet the industrialist who IS happy to see you Doctor

Well that may be so, but I caused a great amount of trouble for his father a while back. He loosened his collar with a bony forefinger.

You been messing with the Chilvester family Doctor then youre lucky to still be able to walk! Dante tried his best to seem scandalised, but he was impressed enough for it to notice. He could have made a new friend here. The Doctor smiled shyly. Angel smiled even more. The town was a good ol fashioned frontier town, wooden side walks, saloons, hitching posts. Someone had gone to a great amount of effort to make this look like something out of a western. Of course no one here would have ever have seen the great western films, the art of cinema very rarely got further than the core planets. These people probably just had brightly coloured, brainless soap operas and quiz shows to keep them entertained. The backbone of the human empire-- had never even seen The Treasure of the Sierra Madre. It made the Doctor feel quite sad.

But unlike its rustic design-sakes lost forever in the 19th century, this 50th century counterpart was a hundred times larger-- in effect the same small time a hundred times over, grouped closely together. To the most eastern part of the town was the shuttle port and ventilation systems for the mine, that Angel could just make out, glittering at the other end of a luminous path.

Quite a jurisdiction youve got Dante, Angel said, sounding sociably impressed. You keep order in this place all on your own?

Me and Terwilliger, the Sheriff said, leaving Farnsworth and the forth gecko-hunter to return his bird to the town stables. Plus we rely on people just using their common sense. People look out for one another one another. Most of the time everyone stays happy With such timing as only travelling in the TARDIS could provide, that saloon doors burst open and there stood a disgruntled looking drunk with brilliant white hair and a grudge. There was also a strong smell of whiskey about him. He was old, sixty five perhaps but at this point in human history people didnt age as they did in Angels time so he could have been eighty- he was slim but strong, and he was passionate about something. That something seemed to be picking a fight with the sheriff.

You bastard! The man spat in a mixed holler and sob, his accent was a thinly diluted republic of Ireland voice. The Sheriff looked up, and his heart sank at sight of the man.

Terwilliger I thought youd organised him on the train out of here Dante muttered, his face blemished with shame. Terwilliger stammered, wiping his dust and sweat baked face with a crusty handkerchief.

I did-- train mustnt be running on time

The trains always run on time Terwilliger dont gimme any of that crap! Dante sneered at his deputy who shrugged away from him. The old mans eyes were streaming with drunken tears. Hed been drowning some sort of sorrow. With a quiet word and strong arm, The Doctor manoeuvred Angel away.

You lazy bastard Sheriff! Thats all you are! Lazy! You were put here to protect us and you cant even do that the man was quaking with despair, only the fact he had something to say was keeping him standing. My boy went down that mine, my boy and thirty others all for this great patriotic duty of yours and not one of them came back up not one of them!

Arkham, listen to me Dante tried to reassure the paining man. Accidents happen. Finlay knew the risks, so did all of them-- there was nothing that could be done about it.

Dont try to pan any of that shit onto me! The man croaked, his face blazing. That wasnt any accident! No cave in or mine gas took my boy from me it was the ghosts Dante and you know it! You know it and you let them take my boy! This proved more than the old man could cope with, and with a throttled wail he collapsed to his knees in the dust-- sobbing like a new born child. Angel felt the Doctors fingers tighten across her shoulders, and glancing back she saw his face was like thunder. He breathed deeply, his eyes flashing. The mention of the word ghosts had summoned something inside him, some higher emotion above his melancholy or his dry tom-foolery. It hardened him as Angel watched, something came over him as two young men took the old man back into the saloon and Dante stood-- rubbing his neck that was bright with ignominy. The Doctor broke away from Angel and strode over to the anguished Sheriff, the tall dark figure looked almost ghostlike in its own right as those long powerful steps left little or no impression in the dirt.

What did he mean by _ghosts_, Dante? The Doctors demand was cunningly disguised as conversation.

It doesnt matter Doctor, Dante said with a forced smile-- keeping up appearances.

_They_ took thirty people when they were down in the mine never to be seen again, that matters to me

And to me, Angel appeared suddenly by the Doctors side, the opulence in her own presence a match for the Doctors any day. Dante looked from one to the other and felt their place in the world with an inexplicable sense of something far beyond himself. He looked at The Doctor, an old man of course but looking at him now, stood against the blankness of the prairie he seemed ancient. And the girl, Angel; so young and prime but she too seemed travel worn and somehow that unblemished face was wizened with experience. As though these people had been put there at the right time and the right place with the sole purpose of solving this problem. Dante cleared his throat, gulped and tweaked his nose with the back of his hand.

Well you two had better step into my office


	7. Chapter 5: Without a Trace

Authors note:

For reasons I dont understand and cannot begin to explain, all forms of punctuation marks are disappearing from documents as I upload them. Worrying I know. You will have to resort to common sense Im afraid.

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Chapter Five: Without a Trace

Angel sat in the Sheriffs chair beneath the stuffed head of some poor hoofed mammal that couldnt outrun a bullet. Its eyes misty and lifeless, its fur caked with decades worth of dust. The whole office was dusty, a cluttered ransacked mess. The biggest desk was Dantes, the one he had generously offered to Angel to sit at as he lectured The Doctor on the long history of the Ranxs ghost infestation. The Sheriffs of Ambitions past had taken it upon themselves to carve their names into the desk draws, some worn away with the dry winds, becoming so smooth that they felt like they were part of the design. There were stacked books on colonial law and protocol in this sector of the galaxy, all written in 50th Century English which meant even the TARDIS all powerful telepathic translator functions couldnt recognise the new sentence structures and colloquialisms that had made it into every day speech. There were also a number of letters, some opened some not from Chilvester himself--- ah, but there discreetly tucked between the rules the regulations and the routine correspondences with head office was a surreptitious lingerie catalogue with well thumbed pages. For those warm evenings when crime was not threatening to break down the society they had built in the middle of a chip pan. Terwilligers desk was considerably smaller and closer to the cells, two large iron cages-- just like in the films. It struck Angel as curious how like a film Western the town of Ambition proved itself to be. Maybe that was all the architects had to go on. Or it was a coincidence. Angel tried not to believe in coincidence, it made her feel restless. Terwilliger was looking as much like a slowly roasting bull as he ever did, but now he was slowly roasting bull trying to do paperwork in this heat. Angel swivelled on the chair as she listened to what Dante had to say. He stood in the doorway that poked out onto one of the sidewalks of Ambition and talked directly to The Doctor who stood with his back against the bars of the cage

Dante stood in the doorway of his office, the noon sun bristling one side of his face, standing perfectly rigid; his arms folded, his head inclined, never taking his eyes of off The Doctor. It had to be admitted he didnt entirely trust the old man who had popped up out of nowhere with his alluring companion. But there was something in his manner that stirred the need to share in the young sheriff. Something in the glittering blue eyes and that inexplicable nature demanded to learn what there was to be learnt and would never let go until its insatiable thirst for information had been dampened. It had to occurred to Angel one or twice before that The Doctors desire to learn as much as he could was not to broaden his already immense horizons or for the simple of sake of being smarter it epitomised the phrase knowledge is power, that in learning everything he could prepare himself against what ever the universe was ready to throw at him.

The Doctor listened intently. Apparently it became an informal tradition of human colonised planets to develop a mythology and folklore of their own to compensate for the lack of any tangible history-- humans always felt profoundly uncomfortable in places with no past. These always developed out of the nature of the planets in questions, for instance water worlds always had a race of hideous sea creatures lurking beneath the surface ready to snap up unsuspecting lay-abouts stories to keep the children in line. Stories about ghosts started to crop up almost immediately after the first settlers made planet-fall. Such wide open spaces played with peoples visions, told them they saw things that werent there-- in this case pale shades wandering aimlessly across the prairies for eternity. Once again, these stories were promoted by parents to keep their little ones in check, dont wander out onto the prairie--- theres ghosts out there. The stories were never given any real credence, though they did make the prairies an ominous place to be at night-- where there was no way of guarding your back. And then, about a year ago, the stories suddenly became true. People began to see the white wraiths en masse. In secluded areas, lurking in the shadows, always just on the edge of sight they would just appear like they had stepped out of the air. They just stood and watched. People would catch glimpses of them out the corner of their eye and realise they had been being watched for god knows how long. Then they would retreat into the shadows again. Ambition had stories like that cropping up here and there, people seeing them as-large-as-life especially when they started turning up in the mine shafts. One night, a few were seen by a group of miners leaving the saloon after a lock-in and alerted Dante and Terwilliger. When they came to investigate there was not a sign of them. Nerves began to waver all over the Ranx, people becoming scared of their own shadows, paranoia caused violent outbursts or emotional problems all the time the ghosts were just stood watching with cold hollow eyes. And then people started to disappear. Through Ambition was relatively cut off from the other colonies, occasionally the trains would arrive with settlers who had put in for transfers, the inspectors who effectively lived off of the rails and visited each town and delivering their opinions to the ministry-- they all brought word of people being stolen away in the night; at first just individual occurrences but larger and larger numbers of people were disappearing from more and more town across the planet. The ministry didnt believe it. Thought it was just a means for the workers to not have to do any work and so didnt support and investigation. And all the time more and more people were snatched by the ghosts. The colonists became too frightened to venture out of doors and news of strikes had reached Ambition-- who had so far been spared of any abductions. But that soon changed. A week ago. One of the morning crews on their routine shift down in the mine-- theyre last radio transmission was something scrambled a new tunnel being found in the rock-- then silence. Not a single man returned.

now folks are too scared to go anywhere on their own, Dante continued. And there aint nothing I can do to help em Doctor, not a damn thing. He took his hat off and held it close to his side, looking out into his town. The Doctor looked straight back at him, never faltering.

Angel leant forward in her seat, from her position behind the desk she had a twinge of superiority. Her gaze was on The Doctor, who hadnt spoken or even moved since they had entered Dantes office.

Doctor, she said. His head arched round to face her, not a word wrinkled his face. All the time weve been wandering round in the TARDIS, weve heard a fair share of ghost stories havent we? Some of them admittedly truer than others but still The Doctor nodded slowly, his eyes bade the question as to where this question was going. Its just, weve never found anywhere that was well infested. Have we? The Doctor breathed in slowly, the air spreading to every corner of the old mans frame.

Infestation is just the word, Angel, he mused. Somethings going on here thats pretending to be something else. Im afraid to say its the oldest trick in the book

What would anyone get from posing as a load of ghosts? In her gut she knew the answer. And The Doctors stare reassured that watery feeling deep down in her.

Isnt it obvious Angel? And for what seemed an age the two time travellers locked onto one another. They were the only two people on the planet who knew what was happening. Whatever was posing here, at work on the Ranx, through their cloak and dagger techniques they got the population. They got them right were they wanted them, alone and unprotected on the surface of a parched world.

Never mind that Doctor Dante cut in. I get the feeling you two are holding something out on us

Out of the stuffy noon air came a rodent-like man in a dark blue uniform; more used to sitting in an air conditioned office than the mining towns. From looking at him one could tell he worked on the railways. It also looked like he'd been boiled. How far had he ran here in that formal dress? How long had he been dehydrated in his parched landscape? Foam spattered on thin black lips, and his eyes like wild dried husks rolled in his skull.

Sheriff! He wheezed. Its the Governors train sir! Its been raided!

------

Small clusters of anguished looking people stood in the street and looked at Dnate and The Doctor as they stepped out into the dusty road. A dozen pale faces mumbled and retreated indoors. Dante hadnt been kidding, Angel thought as she surveyed the town. People were skittish, even thought the town was bustling. It was all very professional. The sun was still high in the sky, lighting up everything like a reflective beaker, but the people of Ambition would not stray into the shadows. They all busied themselves keeping the town running perfectly, all on a knife edge. That is not to say that the town of Ambition had ground to a halt because of the recent unexplained activity. It was as bustling and as rapid as any other working society-- but the people were dampened with a feeling like something awful was about to happen, that the dark was waiting and ready to leap after them and snatch them away. To greet one of these people in the street would give you an idea of the true feelings of Ambition. There was something very definitely wrong.

Dante I need to see this train wreck, The Doctor said so suddenly and so surely that it even staggered Angel. Only then can I have an idea of whats really behind all this. His voice did not inspire argument, his resolve was iron cast. Angel had seen him determined before of course but not like this. This was motivated by more than just The Doctors regular instincts. It was somehow frostbitten. As though he feared for their own part in whatever game fate had turned upon them now. Dante looked at The Doctor and rubbed his stubbly chin.

Well I dont a darn thing about you Doctor, he said ponderously. But Im gonna go wit my gut instinct and bring you along Terwilliger snapped around and glowered at his youthful superior.

Hey now Sheriff, he said, keeping a careful watch on the old man. Angel didnt appreciate the insinuation in the deputys gaze. Are you sure we can trust these here characters? I mean-- I dont mean to insult your gut instinct but how do we know theyre even on our side? The Doctor raised a disdainful eyebrow at the deputy.

Youre such an angry little man Terwilliger The Doctor said with the bitingly dry wit that Angel simultaneously admired and envied, all the time with a smile on her face. Lets get this done with then you can go home and have a cup of tea and put your feet up or whatever the hell it is you do. The deputy spat in the dust and wandered off to the back of the sheriffs office where theyre private birds were held. Dante smiled with unspoken approval and followed Terwilliger to the stable. Angel was still smiling when The Doctor turned to face her, the hardened determination sweeping over him again. His eyes, always his eyes, were hard as steel. She thought she could see the unfeasible motion of his thoughts within his skull. Are you coming with us? He asked. Angel thought carefully. If she rode off with the Doctor and Dante to investigate the train-wreck shed just stand around getting dry roasted while The Doctor deducted and argued and eventually cake to some horrific conclusion that hed fix quickly enough by charging around and making a few quick jibes at people. There had to be a way she could be of more use to him through her own abilities. Well-- people had always said she was quite personable. And after all; _knowledge was power_. Perhaps she could try the domestic approach.

Erm she started. If its all the same to you Doctor Id like to stay see what I can find out from the locals. She smiled reassuringly. The Doctor smiled back.

Good, Im glad he said. Dante called to him from the sheriffs office, where he stood with his own chocolate coloured steed and a graceful looking pewter plumaged creature of incredible stature. The Doctor raised his hand, hed be along in a moment. Back to Angel. Find out what you can, where the ghosts are turning up, if theres anything that links the people who have been taken anything could be important. He sighed heavily, glanced at his shoes, and seemed to force a smile for the sake of maintaining appearances. He affectionately tweaked Angels nose and turned to go. Angel leapt forward and gripped his elbow.

Doctor she said. He stopped. Is there something youre not telling me? When Dante first mentioned ghosts, you well you gripped by shoulders so tight, it was like something had frightened you. Youve been off since we arrived here-- whats happening? He hazarded a step or two forwards.

The TARDIS developed its own flight pattern, it brought us here of its own free will

But its a machine

Sometimes I wonder about that. What it does mean is that it knows we are part of an established event and has brought us here to keep the appointment. Weve been brought to face our destinys Angel. Somethings going on here that you or me or both of us are a vital part of. And that frightens me frightens me more than anything they were silent for a moment until he freed Angel from his glare. Keep your wits about you. It is a ghost town after all. And walked away. Angel laughed.

I cannot _believe_ you just made a pun she called after him. He waved back from the back of the bird, looking a little ridiculous and even more awkward as its squawked, flapped and galloped off out of Ambition and back onto the prairie with Dante and Terwilliger. Angel shook her head, put her hands in her pocket and decided to play detective.

The ruggedness of Ambition seemed to her to be a matter of convenience. By this late stage in human history shed known that most things were machine built, ran on automated computer systems and were on the whole very futuristic-- despite its official designation as the present. From what she had seen across the wilderness of the mining facility that was as she would expect for a 50th century colony. But perhaps the wooden buildings, the aqueducts, use of animals instead of mechanical transport was just a tried and tested method of holding up in these conditions that history had proved effective. She couldnt argue with it-- even if she looked a little out of place and got a few odd looks from people in the street. The last thing she wanted to hear was a few forboding banjo chords from one of the balconies. Instead, she heard a Texan accent as rugged as Terwilligers but quite amazingly feminine call to her calling her missy. A young blonde woman, about Angels age-- perhaps a little younger-- and obviously attractive. She leant on one of the sidewalk railings outside some sort of shop, in the shade cast by the above balcony.

Youre the one who turned up with that old guy aint yer? She said with potent confidence. _Oh my god,_ Angel thought. _Its Calamity Jane_.

Yeah, thats me. Angel replied, wandering over.

You two sure were giving my uncle a hell of a time she said with a leer, one that probably worked on the hot blooded men of Ambition.

Terwilligers your uncle?

Yeah-- damn shame aint it? You can choose your friends but with your family youve gotta keep your fingers crossed I just didnt cross em hard enough. She stepped down from the sidewalk and approached Angel. She looked her up and down, smiled and nodded quietly. Names Sheridan.

_Your_ names Sheridan?

Its what I said isnt it?

_Urggh, maybe_ Angel thought, but instead just smiled politely. Im Angel.

Awww, thats adorable, Sheridan cooed. Obviously young women from high up in the society, even a society like Ambition, were the same the universe over. With unbelievable austerity, Sheridan tucked her arm around Angels and dragged in a half skip down the dusty street. So tell me sweetie, what in the hell are you and the Lone Ranger over there doing in a hell hole like Ambition? You in trouble or something? Everything about her had such energy that seldom encapsulated anyone but an only child, she strutted actually strutted despite her scarlet coloured period outfit as though she owned the place, and now Angel was her new best friend. Though Sheridan probably went through best friends as quickly as she went through dresses and hair styles. But she was just the sort of contact Angel needed. The Doctor would have approved.

Me and The Doctor? No, no, we just sort of arrived here our transport sort of, malfunctioned and we to make an emergency landing. It wouldnt do to just say _we dropped in_, she didnt Sheridan would believe it for a moment. Angel understand the vital necessity of jargon when travelling in the TARDIS, it had to be kept suitably vague to sound plausible but cover her otherwise crippling ignorance.

Little old for you aint he, cutie? Sheridans insinuation made Angels stomach turn.

Oh god no- were not no! Never! She shrieked much to Sheridans (perhaps cruel) delight.

Relax honey Im just yankin yer chain, she playfully barged Angel in the shoulder. So what is it? Your granddaddy? Is that it?

Actually, hes more like my boss

Well what sort of business have you two got going on out here? She shrieked. This, the back-end of nowhere? Hot and dry and boring as hell Angel chuckled.

Guess you dont like it too much, eh?

Meh, Sheridan shrugged. I get along with it fine. But Id rather be on one of the core worlds yknow? Like Natia, Ostrotiah hey maybe even Earth someday she winked and jostled Angel again in the manner that suggested the phrase _thatll be the day_. Angel smiled sweetly and couldnt resist playing with the delightfully arrogant little it girl.

Ive been to earth she said, the sentence sounding a little odd as it came out-- she had to admit to herself. The reaction from Sheridan was like Angel had announced the fact she sneezes gold, and there was not a shadow of a doubt over it.

You havent! She had. No way! Yes way. Whats it like? Youve gotta tell me everything!

Its very crowded, and very busy and nobody has the time to stop and talk one another. That was bound to be true even in this day and age. Especially in this day and age perhaps, where humanity had grown beyond what could be described as their natural barriers and blossomed out into the universe. But Sheridan just groaned dreamily, as though it was what she had always imagined and hoped it always had been. It was odd for Angel, her home world described as some romantic nirvana so far away. As they walked idly in the road she spied a trio of young and wan looking men being escorted from a bright looking building-- painted in deliberately extravagant emulsion on the swinging sign above the door was the green moon, the universally acknowledged symbol for health care. The doctors surgery? If so, what was wrong with these three men? They looked malnourished even though they were positively muscular, quite clearly hard labourers. Their skin was pale, their movements loose--- so were empty, a walking shell. It was horrifically fascinating to watch them shuffle in the dust as a health worker took them back (presumably) to their homes. Sheridan Angel ventured. Thats the doctors surgery isnt it? The girl inclined her blonde, probably sawdust filled head to the building where the men had departed.

Yeah, thats Doctor Montgomerys place been worked off his little feet lately

Oh? Whys that?

Curious little thing aint ya? She cheeped, laughing quietly. She span around and propped herself up so she could sit on the hitching post, employing such acrobatic methods that she didnt let out a groan or sigh or show any sign of discomfort at all. Angel was impressed, she was also determined. Sheridan understood this, and shared what she knew. The miners sometimes get poisoned by the stuff their digging up. Its not much of a problem, just sort of whacks em out for a bit-- no emotions for a while. Easily sorted. Ol Monty says its all about balancing the bodily chemicals. She laughed shamelessly. Or something like that

Angel pulled herself up onto the same hitching post to sit next to Sheridan. Oof. She wasnt as fit as she should be. Or perhaps she just wasnt as perky as Sheridan was. Either way, the way her body creased as she sprang up made her gurgle, something else that Sheridan found laughably adorable.

You mean like coal dust in the lungs?

Whats coal? Something you have on earth?

Er yeah. Miners get the dust in their lungs and it mucks up their respiratory tracts as they chip it out of the rock.

Yeah! Thats it! Its pretty much the same deal with our boys. Aint they handsome? She chuckled again. Though she felt guilty for the thought, it occurred to her that perhaps Sheridan was all fur-coat but no knickers and that more than a few of those rugged sun tanned miners and been intimate with her in one way or another. She was an infectiously likable person however, and Angel couldnt help but grin at the suggestion.

What do you mean pretty much?

Its not as icky as having bad lungs something in the chemical just jostles their emotions. Literally drains them. Like I said though, its easily cured, one of the hazards yknow?

Angel stared at her for a moment. THIS was important, she thought. The Doctor had never told her exactly what was being dug up on the Ranx, and if it was having this sort of effect on the populace-- she may have just uncovered a vital clue.

Wow, she said with genuine surprise. Ive never heard of anything that has that sort of effect. What the hell are you digging up here?

Pharatium

He paced up and down in the short arid grass like a tiger slowly maddening in its cage. The full length of the locomotive itself and the first three carriages, turning swiftly on his heel as he marched with the same iron-cast mind set that sent him down the line in the first place. The train looked dead and so vulnerable for the great metal device it was. It could have been lying there for centuries, the world kept turning around the hollowed husk. The trains around the Ranx were required to run like clockwork on pain of disciplinary measures for the engineers in charge. This one was due in Ambition hours ago, bringing with it Chilvester. Alarm bells started to ring then, so the station master sent out a scouting party to see what had befallen the new Governor. On arrival they found this. Dante, Terwilliger and two railway engineers in dirty overalls watched as The Doctor pondered quietly. Dante stood with a look of quiet fascination on his face as the old mans brow wrinkled with intense thought. Terwilliger, on the other hand, seemed to be on a slow boil-- standing with The Doctors coat.

Cmon then Doctor, Terwilliger spurted. Whats yer great diagnosis? His word was filled with childish challenging. The Doctor stopped dead and glared at him.

Coat racks shouldnt speak Terwilliger, just stand there and look wooden. Theres a good boy

Dante held his burly deputy back with his arm, not even trying to hide his admiration of The Doctors smart-mouth.

Any ideas Doctor? Dante rephrased.

The Doctor dropped down to his knees at the wheels of the locomotive bidding Dante to join him. The Sheriff jogged over to the old man and joined him on the soil. Hot air was rising from the dusty ground and swirled the granulated soil around their feet. The Doctor was looking hard at the wheels of the locomotive. He ran his bony fingers across the lumpy swirling patterns of melted then dried iron. The wheels looked like they had momentarily been liquefied and then solidified almost immediately, before the metal could just run away like water.

Have you ever seen anything like this Dante? The Doctors voice was a toughened hush, straggled with a horrified disbelief. Such devastating technology. Quite remarkable.

Dont admire them Doctor, whatever those damned ghosts really are attacked this train and kidnapped nearly two hundred colonists

You adapted to the idea of them being something other than ghosts rather quickly didnt you?

Im a rational human being Doctor, superstition is just something waiting to be found out.

The Doctor smiled. He admired the young Sheriffs thinking. He stood up and took the sonic screwdriver out of his pocket.

What are you thinking? Dante asked. The Doctor seemed almost absent, as though he was only half there.

So many things his face sneered, like something had offended his sentences. Can you taste that? He said, clicking his tongue. The sensation was sharp, acrid, and attacked the senses as it lingered in the air. Like burnt tin.

Well what does that mean?

Characteristic of short ranged teleports. His tongued clicked once or twice more before he span around quickly and clambered up into the cab with surprising spryness for his age. Dante followed suit. The Doctor looked the controls over of the train. Though it was a delightfully retro internal combustion engine it wasnt a coal burning furnace. And the controls were not typical of its long forgotten counterpart. But The Doctor knew a broken train when he saw one. The pressure gauges had ruptured, the furnace lay in pieces around it and the metal was still damp from steam. It was as though the train had been boiled externally-- but somehow without killing the passengers. And had teleported in to teleport them out? There was nowhere out there for them to teleport from. What was the point? The element of surprise? No. Once theyd disabled the train the passengers would be sitting ducks. Ready to be harvested. And the attack on the train itself made The Doctor wonder. It was powerful certainly, advanced undoubtedly but it lacked voraciousness. It wasnt violent in its employment. It was routine, necessary practical. This was a trap set and deployed with no sign of an actual hunt. It was heartless. The only sign of any real violence was that the doors of the train had been ripped open. But that was after the kidnap surely. They came back? Came back to see if anyone was left. No one left behind to tell the story. They needed the panic they caused, the façade they held over the people. They needed to be the bogeymen, they knew what people were thinking and employed it to their benefits. But they didnt exaggerate it-- that was what The Doctor found most bizarre. They didnt trump it up, they didnt make it any more extraordinary. Why was that? They melt the train to the tracks disabling it, kidnap the passengers to where? Did they beam down? No this colony wasnt composed of idiots theyd have known, anything in the sky would have been found out by their instruments. Then where? Somewhere where they could attack the train.

Dante, The Doctor asked. How well do you know the geography of Ambition?

Like the back o my hand

Good, at a rough guess what would you say was under this train track?

Directly under here? Nothing. But theres a network of mine tunnels about a mile that way in the sheriffs head a thought occurred to him, a jigsaw pieces slotted into place.

Yes?

The mine where the dawn crew went missing.

Really The Doctor said, turning slowly, looking out across the desolation. It hadnt occurred to him that the mines went so far out. Hed just assumed they were tunnelling down. Whatever these ghosts proved to be was hiding in the tunnels, that had become immediately apparent. So many ideas running through his head. Not random elements they all mattered, they all vital, if The Doctor could just get them to slip together. Kidnappings, the attack on the train, and underground base, using the superstition of ghosts to their advantage and then it hit him. And it turned his stomach. The world fell away around him and the coldness of the truth gripped him slowly. It turned him physically pale.

Doctor, said Dante. What is it? You think youve got it?

Oh I think so the Time Lord grumbled. I just pray to god that Im wrong


	8. Chapter 6: The Pharatium Complex

****

Chapter Six: The Pharatium Complex

Evening had been and gone by the time a weary Doctor arrived back into Ambition. He scarcely recognised the town as he wandered from the bird-shed, his mind clouded with dark and foreboding calculations and stepped into what seemed a mardi-gras of celebration, singing and dancing, loud music and fast drink. Coloured paper lanterns were strung up from window to window illuminating the strip he walked down, as though the inhabitants had intended a drunken and half-hearted impersonation of the Hindu Divali. A little orb of light against the star scattered sky. The doors of the houses were open, wide open, the warm light spilling out onto the dark pavement. The air frizzled with glorious smells of ripe food ready from the fire for thirsty mouths and to hell with the heart disease. Where had the sunken figures gone? Had the superstition of ghosts so easily evaporated like every drop of moisture on the planet? Theres was dancing in the streets. There was probably no dancing anywhere else for all the people that were there just enjoying themselves. Business had been thrown to the dogs. This was a party, pure and simple.

If he hadnt had been so shocked The Doctor would probably have appreciated it. He still knew how to make a decent banana daiquiri but where would he get a banana on the Ranx? The one day he forgot to pack one with him. He wandered threw the high street unseen and disregarded by those who whooped and swayed past him. As he drifted through the calling crowds he for a moment noticed a young blonde girl with a dense Texan accent entertaining a throng of five beefy miners with necks the width of their enormous heads. He wandered on. The party was melting around him as he continued to think. It was too important to get distracted now. Things had been set in motion that could not be undone. He had to ride this to the end, see how far it went, see what he could do to help or prevent or deter what was his role here? And all the time he thought he felt as though something lurked behind him. Something stirred the etha in The Doctors wake. It had been in the TARDIS that morning, it had been with him on the train, it was there on the ride back to Ambition and here, now, it was reaching out to touch him:

__

Like one, that on a lonesome road  
Doth walk in fear and dread,  
And having once turned round walks on,  
And turns no more his head ;  
Because he knows, a frightful fiend  
Doth close behind him tread.

Never a truer word had Coelridge written in or out of his opium stupors, The Doctor had always been unnerved by the fact that the great poet had written The Rime of the Ancient Mariner as an allegory for him. It was unsettling, especially now. And that frightful fiend extended a bony hand perhaps a hollow breathing? But no. Alas he stood alone. Alone in a crowd. How true of his life. The world was turning quickly towards a new day. Whatever was going to happen-- it was going to happen soon, and The Doctor would have to be ready. He stood at an intersection of two streets and paused to get his bearings. Yet a smile cracked the old mans face and swelled his two weary hearts as he heard a familiar voice call him by name:

Doctor! Doctor! Over here!

He turned. It was Angel, running towards him out of the human maelstrom that partied like nothing else mattered beneath those paper lanterns. She was just a brisk grinning blur as she bounded over to him, a dusty glass of deep, pungent red wine in her right hand.

Where have YOU been? She beamed with motherly undertones. The Doctor sniffed.

Here and there

Have you been snooping?

Have YOU?

Yes, I have actually, she said with a smirk.

Excellent, he said, casually taking the glass of wine from her hand and drinking deeply from it. Urrgh. Fine enough vintage but hadnt been left to breathe for long enough. Urgent drinkers, get the bottle open, spread it round. Anywhere we can talk? He was still as cold and solid as iron, as present as a glacier.

Its a party Doctor, you can talk anywhere she sternly removed her glass from his hand as he looked around the heaving streets again.

Yes, he mumbled. I meant to ask about that. When we arrived Ambition exactly seem like the sort to break into spontaneous hedonism he said. Angel gulped back her drink with urgency to share the nugget of information she had found.

No, no, no-- thats the thing. Its the end of the seasons shift, fortnights holiday. She said with a smile. Six months straight of toil and they get this as their leisure. Not a bad idea in my opinion

Yes, well, youre a student youd be happy drinking home brewed punch out of a communal bathtub.

Which isnt as disgusting an idea as you may think. Sunny Delight and Vodka stirred at room temperature with scrubbing brush will make Cotton Eyed Joe sound twenty times better.

I suppose youve got to love the classics.

I do. Whod have thought Cotton Eyed Joe would be taken into space with mankind? Sometimes I think were mad. She barked a laugh. The Doctor seized her by the shoulders and fixed her with his forever stare. Something had gone very, very wrong-- or was about to go very wrong and he needed his companion ready to face the situation with him. It was just as well she wasnt actually drunk, but the old mans presence sobered her quickly.

Angel, weve got to talk

Battle stations. She straightened up, tucked that mischievous curl behind her ear and abandoned the glass on a hitching post. _Abigail Holmes; ready and reporting for duty, sir._

Right-- come with me

They perched on the side of a fresh water trough, bubbles gurgling as the filters allowed for fresh drinking water to be freely available. It was large, rectangular with thick, smooth concrete sides, cool in the evening air. Odd how the residents of Ambition had taken so easily to celebration despite their inhibitions of being out after dark. But after all, they had lit up the night and were all together. What could possibly be safer? No one could be taken if they were all there together, and thats what they were--- together. Ambition ran off of a all for one and one for all mentality. It had to, now that it seemed the ministry that effectively kept them there had little if any care for them. The Doctor almost admired them. But there were other things at stake. Without turning he said to Angel:

The passengers on the train were stolen. There are no two-ways about it. Something came, it butchered the train and it took two hundred people away like that he snapped his fingers. He could almost hear them screaming inside his head. Angel said nothing, just sat and listened to what he had to say. Whatevers at work here he said at last. Is at work in the tunnels. The mines must connect to a natural cave system that stretches out further than anyone here thought. They use teleports just under the surface appear out of nowhere grab the unfortunates and disappear again under the ground.

Who are they?

He told her he didnt know. He lied because he wanted it not to be true. He justified to himself that since he didnt know for sure, what was the point of causing panic? Nevertheless-- he would have to find out. He took a sharp inhalation, twisted were he sat as to face Angel and asked her what she had discovered.

Ive found out whats being mined here for one thing

The Doctor sat up straight.

Oh? What is it?

Pharatium.

His eyes widened, his lips parted as though he would say something but instead pressed his palms together and placed them close to his tight lips. The Doctor nodded silently.

Some of the miners are poisoned by it in the tunnels effects their biochemistry so they end up emotionless. Doctor Montgomery says that the effects are treated easily enough but its a real pain to diagnose because the patients dont know theres anything wrong with them. Look

She reached into the pocket of her denim jacket and removed a small canvas bag tied up with frayed string. She tossed it idly to The Doctor who snatched it deftly out of the air. Only once he caught it did he look at it. He quietly undid the fastening with one hand and poured the contents into his lean palm. It was a fine, pale powder that looked and had the texture of dried clay-- but it shifted and felt like deposited iron filings. Powdered Pharatium. Granules small enough to be inhaled as it was chipped from the rock.

Do you know whats so special about Pharatium, Angel?

I was hoping youd tell me.

The Doctor twitched the granules between his fingers, as though he was scrutinizing every individual speck with infinite curiosity.

It is a very rare and very complex compound. He said. Found in small deposits on worlds that are few and far between. It is used by doctors as a highly powerful emotional suppressant-- Pharatium treatments include mania, depression, hysteria, hyperactivity the chemical levels you out to a calm indifference. But so rare is the composite that it is only used in the most extreme cases.

Alright, that explains the miners, but I dont get why the empire would be mining it

When the industrialists found out about Pharatium and were unhappy with the profits they made from it as a pharmaceutical, they quickly discovered the second of its three unique traits. Fuel. You see as humanity blisters out they find planets with new and full fossil fuels: planets filled with coal, new forests, oil, gas, atmospheres and oceans to generate electricity. Its all very well and good to use fusion strips and nuclear propulsion to build your empire but sooner or later youll need something to fuel your infrastructure with. The industrialists discover that a single pinch of this powder will burn for a day and a half unattended and lets off no by-product whatsoever.

Angel blinked quietly as GCSE science lessons from long ago perked up in her head.

I didnt even think that was possible.

Neither did they. But there they had it. And of course they failed to realise the scarcity of the chemical until theyd decided to mass market it. Pharatium mine owners were suddenly bigger than the Popes. So at this late stage the human empire theyve found a planet filled with it. I dont think anyone would have calculated the chances of something else being here. Too busy running in with pick-axes and drills. Theres gold in them thar hills.

He fell quiet again and stared hard into the party. Something was looking back at him. On the edge of the spectrum. He tried to stare it down to no avail. It chilled him and he withdrew from the contest.

We have to get into those mines-- tomorrow. I have to see whats down there for myself

Im coming with you this time. Angel said determinedly. Not brushing me off that easily Doctor. I suppose I am your _assistant_ after all. She smirked. The laugh shrugged out of him.

At day break? He said, a stab of sparkle in those glacial eyes.

At day break

And for a time they fell quiet, watching the dancing and drinking and singing people, so unaware of what was truly lurking beneath the ground they swayed upon. The moons were ripe in the sky, so bright they looked perfect for plucking. A full five minutes passed of quiet until Angel was compelled to break the deafening silence between her and The Doctor.

You said three unique traits she said, inclining The Doctors interest. Whats the third? Medicine, fuel whats the other one? He remembered and parted his calms where the powdered Pharatium still sat.

For reasons no one has been entirely able to explain he said, moving his head ever so slightly closer to the clay coloured powder. It becomes increasingly volatile in the presence of time-energy. And he closed his eyes, breathed deeply and lightly blew across the powder in his palm. It drifted, flashed orange and combusted into a fantastic green flame. The embers flickered in The Doctors palm, somehow unreal, somehow only slightly present, before the fire drew up all the powder and it crumbled inwardly on itself disappearing out of matter.


	9. Chapter 7: Hollow Voices

****

Chapter Seven: Hollow Voices

In a refreshing, and therefore welcome surprise the shuttle that careered its way across the flats of the Ranx toward the curved structure of the mining site was air conditioned. The craft was shaped similarly to a caterpillar, segmented sections that could carry a hundred or so people at once but probably scarcely did. It ran at remarkable speeds along a sort of magnetised relay in the ground that suspended the shuttle a foot or so from the floor. The craft didnt wobble, didnt sway, it didnt appear to be affected by the outside world as it veered past its Perspex windows. Angel and Dante had sat in the rowed plastic seats, doing their best to avoid motion sickness-- the view outside smearing like running paint. Angel felt a twinge of pity for the poor sods who had to ride this first thing in the morning to go down a dry, dark pit for hours on end-- but the twinge in her gut made her forget all about them and begin to pity herself and her poor stomach. The contents of her guts swirled inside her and she couldnt bear to look up. It felt as though she was sober enough to know what it meant to be drunk and regretted every moment of it. She sat with her head close to her knees and breathing exercises keeping her insides on the inside. It occurred to her that the miners wouldnt have the problem of seeing the world outside swirl and buckle in this manner, on a work day all theyd be facing would be the person opposite. But this empty shuttle was playing merry hell with her senses, and she cast a distasteful glance at The Doctor who stood nonchalantly at the front of the capsule-- legs apart, hands behind his back as they rocketed across the landscape. She felt an elbow in her rib, looking up into Dantes ruggedly handsome face. That five oclock shadow was becoming an actual bear after the nights celebrations, after she and The Doctor had unceremoniously plucked him from his bed at dawn to take him all this way out on what was effectively his day off. Alcohol leaving his system, a thousand regrets in his head combined with the worst hangover hed ever experienced, and as the pale grey light of dawn had broken through his windows the old man had whipped the clothes straight off of his bed with a quiet we have to go for a good morning. Among other things, Angel learnt that morning exactly what Dante wore to bed. Not a lot.

How you holding up?

Ive done Alton Towers, this is nothing to me she smiled defiantly, and only her stomach knew that she was lying through the teeth she kept so tightly shut. She couldnt do anything like that for very long. Up and down was all very well and good but never round-and-round or anything like this. Sitting in a car she had to be in the middle. That was the beauty of the TARDIS. It didnt have any windows.

Dante himself looked a little queasy, he hardly ever left his post in Ambition and even then it was on bird-back. To travel at this speed in what was essentially a tube of thin metal was too disorientating for the sheriff who liked to keep his feet on the ground. The shuttle purred metallically as it slid into the brackets laid on either side of harsh concrete platforms-- its does hissing open and letting cold, re-circulated air slither inside. Angel and Dante tried their best to walk normally despite their mutual queasiness, but The Doctor strode straight out into the icy chill of the mining complex. A great dull, grey slab of a building with an arced Perspex roof. The space rattled and hummed as great pressurised filters (huge, silver tubes) kept the lift shafts and respiratory mechanisms clear of dust. There was a set of double doors marked washroom at the far end of the building, what lay beyond therefore was perfectly obvious. The wall directly in front of the disembarking passengers was a corrugated shutter that housed the enormous lifts. Angel shivered.

Shit, she said unceremoniously. Its cold in here. Cant you lot find a happy medium with anything?

The Doctor looked at her briefly but didnt utter a syllable. He hadnt stopped since theyd woken at dawn, his resolve was unshakable and he was going to get into those mines as quickly as possible. With that in mind, he took the sonic screwdriver from his pocket and from the opposite end of the hall shook the huge corrugated shutters of the lift into action--- they clattered and rumbled their way up until they disappeared into the ceiling leaving a rectangular chasm in the far wall.

All aboard, he said dryly.

You should slow down Doctor, Dante called after the charging Time Lord. Youre going to do yerself an injury.

I doubt that. Was the only reply given. The Doctor was already on the gigantic platform, a thin iron mesh that clattered rather worryingly as he stepped onto it. But this platform would have taken a hundred people down into the mines and up again twice a day, so it was doubtful that it would give way under the weight three people made. Angel! Dont dawdle! Right now it didnt matter how little she cared for being ordered about in this manner, but there was a job to do and she wasnt going to be left behind. The wind hollered like a wild thing up through the shaft as the platform slid seamlessly down the cold baron walls of the mine, a strange smell like stale almonds thrilled the senses and the cold clung to bear skin. Dante busied himself unlocking a red maintenance cabinet, producing three large battery powered lanterns. Angel, for her own part, approached The Doctor with a sudden feeling of caution. She had never hesitated to approach him before but something was wrong with him.

I know youre probably sick and tired of hearing this now Doctor, she said to him. But Im going to go ahead and ask it anyway. Are you alright? He didnt speak. He didnt move. Just stood and looked at the receding rock face, his only motion when Dante gave him the lantern. That bad eh? She slinked away crest fallen, arms folded, and took her own lantern from Dante. So you know where weve got to go?

Sure do, the Sheriff said. The last mining crew came across a fissure in the rock, some chasm they didnt expect to be there. It was the last thing they reported on before they went missing

Investigating lost fissures a mile underground well why not? It was a bad joke, the atmosphere was becoming a little too tense for her liking. The Doctor was becoming distant--- and that was worrying. They descended the rest of the shaft in complete silence, reaching the mine itself with a thump and a rumble after about five minutes. It was ridiculously cold in the mine-- something that Angel had not expected. All around the vast master tunnel were conveyance systems, pieces of broken drill and-- much to her aesthetic delight-- a pick axe lying idly on the floor. It was lit by wall mounted electric lights, a surprisingly large amount of wires for what Angel expected to be a wireless civilisation. The Doctor and Dante talked in muffled conference about the quickest route to the tunnels under their scrutiny, before heading off with the same quiet determination that had driven him across the planes that morning, down the shaft and to this point. Hed hurried off into the electric glow of the pits without so much as a nod to Angel. She felt dejected as she trundled on along after them and for the first time she felt like the assistant. Like her greatest purpose in the old mans life was to make the bloody tea. The Doctor was withdrawing from something, he was shutting her out. What was he running away from? What was he running towards? She wasnt going to let this go. This wasnt him. She recalled the night they sat in the TARDIS and talked all night. What was he so scared of? His own mortality? His own immortality? She never understood how death worked for The Doctor but there was something recently all this talk of destiny, of time-tracks. It wasnt right.

They all heard it. All together and at the same down. It boiled up out of the gut of the mine and grabbed out at their senses. A crying from within the tunnels. A mournful holler of unbridled melancholy, of someone lost in the darkness. Dante darted forward, twisting on his lantern as he bounded into the cordoned area that were unlit by the electric lights.

Dante! The Doctor called, rushing into the darkness after him. Come back!

The crying continued, a howling that bled out of the rock itself. Christ, Angel thought. Is this was became of those poor miners? Lost and half mad lurking in the impossible darkness? She hurried on after them, turning on her own lantern as she hurried after them. She heard them arguing, The Doctor said something about keeping together and Dantes concern for any of his men lost down here. Their actual transaction, naturally, was not as polite as that.

At once the lantern light at Angels control picked up something whirring and clicking quietly that scuttled from one rock to the other and leapt through the dry darkness. A glance of brilliant silver against the bleak rock face. It flashed in the lantern light and hurried away from it. Angel dropped the dense box of the lantern and scrambled blindly in the tunnel to find it. He fingers clung against the hot lens and she pulled it up again, spinning frantically trying to find what ever was out there.

Whoa now! She called down the tunnel. The two silhouettes beneath the arch sent back their affirming illuminations. Doctor! Dante! Theres something in this passageway! Footsteps rushed towards her out of the bleakness, and her lantern shone up on The Doctors lined and anguished face. He was breathing heavily. He didnt like being down here, so far from anywhere, locked in by the dark. People could go mad down here, the noise, the cold, the foul, stale air. Bust most of all he hated Angel being down here. Hed hardly spoken to her since they entered they the tunnels because he couldnt face her. It was too dangerous down here, all he would have to say would be to turn her away. She had been too good to him to deserve the cold shoulder. His wild eyes silently asked for directions-- and she told him where the thing had ran. He beckoned Dante to join them as they slid into the narrow passage. He bade them to be silent with the universal finger to the lips and led them off into the pit. So narrow was this new passage that for the sake of comfort they were forced to walk in single file. They trudged quietly into the depths of the planet, beyond the utter blackness-- before they heard it again. Closer now and undeniable. A voice crying out. A deep resonating note of utter sorrow, guttural as it reverberated off of the cavern walls. It brought tears to Angels eyes to hear it, she had never heard anyone sound as though they were suffering such heartache as they seemed to be. It was harrowing. It could be coming from anywhere. She wanted to find whoever it was and help them but she wondered

She wondered if it was human

What if they really were ghosts?

Anguished souls trapped forever in this cavern.

But before she could say a word, Dantes voice cut through the darkness:

Holy shit! He cried, and the air shrieked like a wounded animal as he squeezed off bullets from his revolver. Rock splintered and flew past, but the vibrations as the bullet ricocheted throughout deafened Angel and The Doctor. They called out, trying to cover their ears and dive from the flying rubble and stray bullets. The Doctor was on his feet before Angel, and with no regard to his own rules of inconspicuousness berated Dante where the bemused sheriff stood.

You blasted idiot! He yelled. Letting the bullets fly in here! What where you thinking?!

Something in the rubble the Sheriff babbled, his skin pale with fright. It spooked me!

Spooked you?! The Doctor fumed. Youre a sheriff for Gods sake! There is no time for being spooked!

And another pitiful wail hollered from within the bowel of the mine. Angel moved slowly away from the encroaching blackness, back into the triangle of light their lanterns formed. She was so scared. It thumped in her chest and weakened in legs. A part of her wanted out. Wanted to turn and run away out of the mine and clear of all this ghost business. But the darkness suddenly seemed impenetrable. And something in Angels gut made the word ambush froth into her head. The Doctors mind had come to the same conclusion, for she felt those long familiar fingers curl around her hand and guide her backwards from the offensive bleak.

Stay where I can see you he murmured, his voice as cold as the tunnel air.

Funny, she said. I was about to say the same to you. And the wailing came again. It was so sad. Angel couldnt think of anything else to call it. This lost voice calling across the infinite waste. Oh god Doctor, she said quietly, gripping his hand more tightly. She looked round, and a quivering smile appeared on her lips. Can I tell you a secret? He nodded softly. Im really scared she laughed. He breathed heavily, released her hand and held her tightly by the shoulders. His nose brushed her hairline. He was so cold and yet irradiated so. He whispered to her.

Can I tell YOU a secret?

She looked up at him, that unshakable sincerity of two thousand years smoothed him.

So am I. And smiled softly. This is what is meant to be with The Doctor. Honest bravery. For something Angel had come to understand from the old man was that bravery was not ignoring fear to do the right thing, but to do the right thing in the face of your fear. And though they were all terrified and alone in that tunnel-- they all had that unilateral understanding. That for all they felt, they would get to the bottom of this.

Dante placed his hand on The Doctors shoulder, and paid no attention to the scowl he got from the old man but instead bade his silence with the same finger on the lips gesture--- and invited the Time Lords eyes to investigate a disturbance in some of the larger loose rocks at the side of the tunnel. It was unmistakable. Something skipping and scuttling through the rubble, metal clinking on rock as it past. He let go of Angel and hunted for his sonic screwdriver, bending himself low to the floor as he scanned through the shadows with the whirring probe. Aha! There! It couldnt resist the attraction of the device and scuttled up and out amongst them. Angels arachnophobia got the better of her and she retreated quickly to the opposite wall. Her feet brushed against a collection of pebbles-- that seemed to be swallowed up by the blackness as they tumbled backwards. They simply vanished.

The thing The Doctor had attracted was about the size of a king crab, but scurried and ran like an agile spider. It had six, long metallic legs, a rounded body like a crab but a long, stiff tail like the body of a lizard. The whole thing was silver and metallic, a small red probe on its skull winked and blinked in the presence of the lantern light. Dante seemed amused by the littler critter, ducking down to tease and play with the scuttling creature. But The Doctor stood and glared, twisted with complete horror.

Playful little thing aint it? The sheriff said, an obvious twang in his voice that suggested regret at trying to kill it earlier.

Dont be fooled, The Doctor mumbled. He put the lantern on the floor and swept up the metal crustacean in his free hand. The light Dante he passed the sonic screwdriver over it and the thing whirred no more. It died in his hand, the legs closing up and wrapping up the little body.

What do you think that is?

I know exactly what it is Dante. He grimaced. His eyes darted up at the sheriff. Flame danced inside him. Weve got to get out of here. RIGHT now Angel! He threw the metal spider to the floor. Angel was scouring her lantern across the wall her back had fallen against where the rocks had fallen through into apparent nothingness. What are you doing?! The Doctor shouted.

Doctor, theres another space here its hidden theres a lower level look She shone the lantern across the rock again but now it hummed and blossomed with a dull blue light. And there in the light, hiding on the hidden level of cave were the silhouettes of tall thin men-- simply standing and watching. How long had they been there? They were silent! But looking now she saw they couldnt even be men. They were all the same height, the same width at the shoulder-- they were made of metal. Brilliant white metal and dark circles on featureless faces that leapt forward with incredible precision at her.

What are they?! She shrieked, leaping backwards from the murk as the porcelain colossi loomed above them. Jesus Christ Doctor! What the fuck are they?!?! They came from everywhere. They pulled themselves up from their hiding places and scrabbled at the prisoners, they marched silently out of the gloom-- immensely tall, elegant limbed, impossibly strong. The old man looked from one of the creatures to the other, his face a melting pot of mixed fear and utter disgust. A foul taste formed in his mouth and he half spat half sang the words that curdled in his larynx:

Cybermen


End file.
